Page 10 of Singled Out
“I was trying to give you incentive. People like to pay you for your work. You should quit giving everything as gifts. And yes, I’m saying that as someone lucky enough to get those gifts.”
“And someone who gifts her own art more than sells it.”
“You got me there,” I said, grinning.
“Maybe someday I’ll get better about selling it. It’s a lot.”
“It’s scary,” I acknowledged.
I’d had people say the same to me about my creations. I liked the idea of making money on my artwork, but the reality was harder—the organization required, the business side, the commitment… None of these were my strong points. I was skilled at creating in different mediums, combining colors, adding whimsy.
“Hey, pretty girls.” Shawna Jenkins peeked in from the main room, her dark hair pulled up on her head, her art bag on her shoulder. “What’s going on?”
“We’re admiring Dakota’s new pretties.”
“Oooh,” Shawna said as she reached the table. “Those are gorgeous. Put me down for one of these blue-and-white ones. I’ll pay you good money.”
I laughed, and Dakota put on an exasperated act, though she was smiling. “I hear you girls.”
“I was just saying she needed to sell more, gift less,” I explained.
“For real. You’ve got your shop online. Why not use it? And you.” She peered at me. “We can set you up a store.”
I made a sound of overwhelm, shook my head, and said, “Maybe. Eventually. What are you working on tonight?”
My question worked exactly like the distraction I hoped it would. “I took a picture of the lake at sunset the other day. It was spellbinding.”
“So you’re going to paint it,” I said.
“Damn right I am.”
She showed us the photos. The trees and the hills were in silhouette. The sky was a vibrant orange swirled with the dusky purple of the clouds, and it made the water look like lava.
“I can’t wait to see what you do with that,” I said.
“It’s gorgeous,” Dakota said. “I was working at Henry’s that night and caught a glimpse of the colors from the bar.”
After a peek inside the kiln at the rest of Dakota’s work, I went with Shawna to the main room. Shawna set her supplies down next to her favorite easel. I went back to my glass mess as she mixed colors on her palette.
We worked without talking for a while, me making racket with my glass cracking and Shawna deep in concentration. Piper Elliott, who owned Oopsie Daisies, came in to work on the wooden signs she sold in her shop.
There were about thirty studio regulars, all ages, both men and women. Tonight’s group was smaller than usual, but the August weather today was a treat, a little cooler than our usual swelter, so people were probably taking advantage of that. I was just relieved to have company. These girls who’d shown up happened to be the ones I was closest to.
After another hour or so of cracking glass, my hand was screaming, so I put those supplies away and pulled out my sketch pad. There was a piece of polished jade in my stone collection that was begging to be turned into a ring. I sketched some setting ideas.
“You’re a painting machine tonight,” I said to Piper. I’d situated myself between her and Shawna. Dakota had come back in and was unwrapping earlier pieces that had been drying.
“I’m working on my fall inventory,” Piper said. “People will be all about everything fall in another two or three weeks. I want to be ready.”
“You’re so smart,” I said, meaning it.
Piper laughed. “I don’t know about that. I learned the hard way last year when I didn’t have enough fall merchandise ready. I could’ve sold so much more.”
“We were talking earlier about making money off our art,” Dakota said. “How did you get started?”
“I borrowed from a bank. Still paying that off, but I’m making progress. Variety helps. Flowers bring people in initially, but I’m getting traffic for all kinds of decor.”
“Your signs are popular,” Shawna said. “I see them all over.”